


Dead Boys In Cathedrals

by Katsala



Series: Wailing At Flowers [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Ginny Weasley, Bisexual Harry Potter, Boys In Love, M/M, Male Ginny Weasley, Seventh Son of the Seventh Son, Under the Influence of Horcruxes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29234217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katsala/pseuds/Katsala
Summary: “who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other’s salvation and light and breasts, until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,who crashed through their minds in jail waiting for impossible criminals with golden heads and the charm of reality in their hearts who sang sweet blues to Alcatraz,”-Allen Ginsberg, Howl
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: Wailing At Flowers [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146635
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Dead Boys In Cathedrals

Gareth Weasley is the seventh child, the seventh son, of a family whose fortune was built on love instead of money. He is born after the war ends, his hair as red as fire, and luck runs through his veins.

His childhood is made of stories. Dad tells him about the adventures of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, especially about Sir Gareth. Mum reads to him and Ron every night from the Tales of Beedle the Bard. But his favorite story is about the Boy Who Lived. The boy who saved the world. The boy with no brothers. The boy all alone.

He confides in Bill, because he’s the only one that will understand. “When I grow up, I’m going to marry Harry Potter and we’re going to have seven sons.”

Bill nods, seeing the wisdom behind the decision, and ruffles Gareth’s hair. “As long as you name one after me. Good night, kiddo.”

Gareth Weasley grew up on stories. A story nearly kills him.

Tom is nice to a lonely kid. Tom is not kind to him. When the blackouts start he wants to tell someone, Percy or Ron or Harry, but he’s scared. And even under the fear there’s that connection, that pull, to keep the diary close, to keep writing, there’s that little voice that tells him Tom is the only one who will ever really understand him. 

He tells everyone he doesn’t remember much of what happened in the Chamber. It’s a lie, but it’s kinder for everyone. Gareth can still feel the cold water soaking through his skin, the itch of red paint drying on his fingers, the slowing of his own heartbeat, the song of the phoenix. He remembers holding on a bit longer than he really should have, because he still had luck and fire inside him.

He remembers those bright green eyes. He remembers Harry shaking him awake, the fear in his voice as he shook him, saying, “Gareth, please wake up, you’re safe now-“

He never stood a chance. It’s easy to love Harry; despite what he thinks of himself, he’s a hero. A hero in a fairy tale.

Gareth isn’t a kiddo anymore. He doesn’t think he’s going to grow up and marry Harry Potter. But he can at least tag along for the ride, right? Ron is a bit more forgiving of his little brother tagging along than he would a little sister, as long as he himself stays the head best friend.

So it goes. They travel in time and save a not-murderer and make a pact to get Hippogriff tattoos someday. Gareth goes to the Yule Ball with Luna and learns about Gillyweed from Neville and sneaks into the hospital wing to sleep next to Harry after Cedric dies. He laces Umbridge’s office with cat piss and helps write up lesson plans for the DA and goes to the Department of Mysteries to protect a friend.

After Sirius dies, Harry takes him aside on the day before end of term. “You don’t have to do any of this, you know. You don’t owe me for the Chamber. You don’t owe anyone anything.”

His green eyes are wide and trusting and guilty, and the creeping, crawling feeling of Tom’s words climbs up his skin again, always finding a way back. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.” He punches Harry in the arm. “Do you wanna play Quidditch?”

As things get worse, as war creeps closer and closer, Tom’s words creep more and more. 

His mother never wanted a seventh son; no matter how hard she tried to hide it, Gareth knows how badly she wanted a daughter. He isn’t anyone’s favorite. He’s dispensable. Tom spent a year killing him from the inside out and nobody even noticed. 

There is anger when you go deep enough. Underneath the fire there is a sliver of ice in Gareth Weasley’s heart. It can’t just be Harry’s job to melt it. He has to do it himself.

He asks Hermione for advice. She tells him, without looking up from the letter she’s writing to Viktor Krum, “Give yourself a break. Maybe try seeing someone else to take the pressure off. Harry can only like you back if he sees the real you.”

Gareth barely even knows the real him, but fine. 

So he tries other people, mostly girls because it’s easier to justify, and it does feel freeing. He kisses Padma Patil under the stars. He flirts with Romilda Vane and lives to regret it. He, Neville, and Luna try a three-way kiss that they’ll laugh about for years to come. 

He holds hands with Vicky Frobisher, brushes her long black hair out of her eyes, dedicates goals at Quidditch games to her, tries not to think about how much he wishes she had a scar in the middle of her face.

They’re climbing into the portrait hole one night when Vicky snips at him, “You don’t have to help me into the portrait hole, I can manage myself!”

He’s done it before, one hand on her waist and one on her arm, but he swears he didn’t even touch her this time. She doesn’t believe he would give such a stupid defense. They break up that night, and something sings in Gareth’s veins.

Harry kisses him in front of everyone. Gareth, who was still holding the Quidditch Cup Trophy, hands it off to Alicia, grabs Harry by the shirt collar, and kisses him back.

In the week that follows people whisper after both of them in the hallways, and for the first time Harry doesn’t seem to mind it. Then, as Gareth predicted, everyone remembers they have better stuff to do than talk about the Boy Who Lived being gay or bi or whatever, better stuff such as pumping Gareth for gossip about his boyfriend. He ends up casting a Bat-Bogey Hex on Romilda Vane to get her off his back. Gareth is pretty sure Malfoy hasn’t even noticed yet. 

At Ron’s insistence, Harry visits Gareth’s dorm and not the other way around. Laying in the four poster bed with the curtains drawn, Gareth traces the broom handle-calluses on Harry’s hand. 

“Do you want kids?” he asks.

Almost immediately Harry answers back, “Yeah. Enough for a full quidditch team at least. Your mum can knit the uniforms.”

Gareth smiles, relieved. “As long as seven of them are sons.”

Harry breaks up with him alone. There are downsides to loving fairy tale heroes after all. They’re too damn noble for their own good; it makes them stupider.

Gareth can’t go while he’s still underage and has the Trace. And it would be too hard to explain two Weasley sons not attending Hogwarts that year. And Mum’s heart wouldn’t be able to take it. He knows, logically, that he can’t go. He just can’t stop himself thinking that he’ll never see the three of them again.

It’s seven in the morning, the day of the wedding. When Gareth makes his way down to the kitchen it’s empty except for Harry, who is trying in vain to tie his bow tie. 

Gareth sighs. “Let me.” His hands move carefully over the piece of cloth; they’re so close to Harry’s neck he can practically feel his pulse. He smooths it out when he’s finished, staring up defiantly into those green eyes.

“How do I look?” Harry asks.

“Like a specky, scrawny git.” Harry laughs, and Gareth’s eyes soften. “You look perfect.” He reaches up, cupping the back of Harry’s head, and pulls him down for a kiss. 

When he comes up for air, Harry mutters, “I’m coming back, you know.”

“You’d better.

There are still things to be done. Gareth does them.

Dumbledore’s Army reforms. Gareth finds himself leading it, Neville and him and Luna becoming a strange reflection of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Prophecy boys who lost their parents, the two youngest sons of the Weasleys, girls so smart they could take over the world if they ever get around to it. Neville, especially, is an amazing leader, brave to a fault, protective of his friends, and more clever than he gives himself credit for.

Gareth sometimes wonders what it would’ve been like if he’d kissed Neville more than that once, but those thoughts vanish when he thinks of Harry, when he sees how Neville looks at Hannah Abbott.

Luna doesn’t come back after break. Neville eventually has to hide in the Room of Requirement full-time or the Carrows might kill him on sight. Gareth stalks the halls of his school like he owns the place because he does; he puts himself in between baby Death Eaters and first years, he weaves words with the subtly and malice taught to him by Riddle, he waits for the heroes to return.

He runs to the Room when Parvati tells him they’re back, and he’s standing right there. Harry looks older, his eyes hardened, but he’s alive and he looks at Gareth like Gareth is water in the desert, and Gareth makes his decision then that he’s never letting that idiot get away from him again.

In the days after the battle, Harry spends a lot of time at the Tonks household. He’s determined to be a good godfather to Teddy now that Lupin and Tonks are gone. Apparently Andromeda likes the company. But he comes home to the Burrow every night, sleeps squished up against Gareth in his bed. Mum doesn’t have the heart to keep the unmarried couples separated.

While Harry is out, Gareth takes care of his own family. He takes George and Bill ring shopping. They find the perfect one, an emerald solitaire with a twisted gold band, and George insists on paying for it, no questions asked.

The day Harry takes him to meet Teddy, he’s got the box in his pocket. Teddy is adorable; Gareth thinks he has Lupin’s eyes but it’s hard to tell with the whole Metamorphmagus thing. Harry seems completely gone on him, baby voice and all.

“Teddy,” he says seriously, “this is your other goddad, and he’s almost as cool as me. Just wait, he’s gonna get you a bunch of brothers one day.”

Gareth smiles. “The first of seven.” He bounces on his feet, lets out a deep breath, and goes for it. “”I need to ask you a question,” he says, going down on one knee.

Harry’s face breaks out into the best smile Gareth’s ever seen, and he feels the words finally leave for good.

Gareth Weasley is a very lucky guy.


End file.
